


The Clyde Frog Foundation

by JohnVM



Category: South Park
Genre: Multi, Party, Series Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnVM/pseuds/JohnVM
Summary: Cartman's throwing a party. After experiencing a sudden change of heart, Cartman invites every fourth grader at South Park Elementary to a huge party at his house, and he's sparing no expense. Kyle is determined to prove that Cartman's new attitude is a sham. Meanwhile, tensions erupt between Clyde, Craig and Tweek over helping cater for the big event, Kevin Stoley has a crisis of faith, and Stan’s Dad is hospitalized. ( Featuring LOTS AND LOTS of Characters! )





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> I have tried to make this fic something that anyone could pick up and read, but I feel obligated to warn it has a handful of small nods to previous works of mine that are not currently available on AO3.

The bell rang as another day of class began at South Park Elementary school, the children filling their seats. As Stan Marsh, a raven-haired boy in a red poofball cap and a brown jacket with a red collar, and Kyle Broflovski, a curly-haired boy with emerald eyes and messy auburn hair, hidden by a green ushanka, clad in an orange jacket, entered the classroom, they both noticed someone missing.

“Dude, don’t tell me Cartman is ditching school again.” Kyle said with surprise.

“He’s going to be so busted. Can he even pass with this many absences?” Stan shook his head. “Kenny, have you seen him?”

The boy in the orange parka shook his head, “I haven’t seen him in fucking days.”

“So anyway, Kyle, like I was telling you before, my dad did something stupid and now he’s in the hospital and-”

Mr. Herbert Garrison, a balding, wrinkled man in his forties with a fondness for green, put some books down on the desk as he entered the classroom, “All right kids, let’s take our seats.” he set the books down on his desk, ““ll right class, everyone take out your homework from yesterday.” he turned to begin writing on the chalkboard. 

Butters Stotch, a short boy with a puff of blonde hair and bright blue eyes, wearing aqua and turquoise, hopped out of his seat and pulled some envelopes out of his backpack, “Hey fellas, these are for you.” he handed one envelope to Kenny, one to Stan, and one to Kyle.

“What are these for, Butters?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t Eric tell you guys already? He’s having a big party at his house tonight, and he’s invitin’ the whole school.”

“Holy shit.” Kenny’s eyes widened.

“Wait a minute... why do I have an invitation then?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically at Butters.

“W-well Kyle, you shouldn’t be s-so hard on yourself.” Butters spoke up, surprised.

“No no no, Butters, I mean, we are talking about the same Eric, right?” Kyle pointed out, “‘No Jews allowed’ Eric Cartman? ’No Gingers’ Eric Cartman? ’No black people‘ Eric Cartman? ’Irish need not apply’ Eric Cartman?”

Butters thought for a moment then shrugged, “It’s our Eric, yeah. He’s really invitin’ the whole school.” Butters nodded and grinned, “Look fellas, I gotta distribute more of these, but try to make it okay? It’d mean a whole lot to Eric, and it’s gonna be a lotta fun. He’s spared no expense.” he sped off, handing an envelope to Jimmy, and then moving through the rest of the classroom.

“Dude, this is crazy.” Kyle whispered to Kenny, “I mean, we always go to Cartman’s things anyway, even if we’re not supposed to, but formal invitations for us? Nothing about ’no Jews allowed’ or 'no hippies’ or ’no poor people’ or anything? He’s gotta be up to something.”

“Yeah.” Kenny nodded.

“Well, two can play at that game.” Kyle nodded, “We’re going to that party all right, but we’re not going for punch and pie. We’re going to find out what he’s really doing and put a stop to it, once and for all. No more waiting for somebody else to do something about his behavior. I am drawing my line in the sand.”

“...Can we still have punch and pie though?” Kenny spoke up.

“Sure, Kenny.” Kyle rolled his eyes, getting comfortable in his seat as Mr. Garrison glared at him, having waited for them to finish talking to start the lesson, “Sorry, Mr. Garrison.”

Garrison rolled his eyes, “Anyway, now that Kyle’s done whining about who cares, I want you all to remember to remind your parents to vote in today’s election for Mayor.” He noticed a hand raised, “Uh, yes Craig?”

“Who cares about some dumb politics?”

“How can you say that, Craig?” Wendy spoke up, “These issues are really important and can have a huge effect on all of us, and our leaders are supposed to represent us-”

“All right kids, look, do you think I want to spend all class talking about politics?” Garrison rolled his eyes, “Anyway, let’s continue...”

***

At the South Park Genetic Engineering Ranch, Dr. Alphonse Mephesto sat at a computer next to his usual desk, wearing his usual hat and yellow floral shirt, “Almost there.” he grinned, looking down at his assistant, “Ah, can you believe it, Kevin? This is why it’s so nice when we’re left alone. The good people of this town are safe, and I’m progressing marvelously on genetically enhancing a giant panda with seven asses and an enhanced libido. Soon, there will be no need to spend millions of dollars paying China for pandas, soon we will-” The doorbell rang. “Who could that be?”

He approached the door, tapping his cane along with him, opening the large metallic door, his assistant Kevin at his side as he faced the stranger outside, “Hello good sir. The ranch is closed today. Try again tomorrow.”

“Are you Dr. Alphonse Mephesto?” came a muffled voice in a thick green jacket, white fluff hiding his face.

“Why, yes I am. Do you need something, sir?”

“...I am the legendary fartmaster.”

“You are?”

“N-no, that’s the password.” he explained, “We need to talk.”

There was a pause. “My God. It’s finally happened.” Mephesto covered his mouth, then stepped aside, pulling the large door open in full, “Please come in...”

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Prelude to Anarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle gathers his allies in hope of discovering what kind of evil plot Cartman must really be up to, while Cartman must perform an errand before he and Butters can finish setting up the big bash, and Tweek's family and Clyde prepare the catering. Meanwhile, Randy's hospitalization advances, while the mysterious figure and Dr. Mephesto try to understand why the town is changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the first actual chapter... I’m warning you right now it’s still mostly set up for the ‘main’ event, which will be the party itself. Try not to hold it against me too much?

The South Park Elementary school library was as good a place for a meeting of intelligent students as any, especially after school when everybody else had left. Kyle sat in front of the main desks, arms behind his back, whispering loudly, “All right guys, let’s review. Cartman disappears from school for a week. Butters invites everybody to a party at his house on short notice. No weird comments, no gloating, no Megaman gift demands, no exclusions for minorities, but promises of cake, pizza, Xbox, pony rides.” Kyle turned around, “Do I need to tell you guys this isn’t the Eric Cartman we all know?”

At the table in front of him were gathered Stan, his girlfriend Wendy Testaburger, and Kenny on one side, with the other side filled by Scott Malkinson, mousy-haired Heidi Turner, and ginger kid Davin Miller, “Wait a minute, fucking pony rides?” Kenny spoke up.

“Dude, Kenny, not the point.” Stan whispered.

“The point is, none of it adds up. The only explanation is that, once again, Cartman is up to something, and we need to get to the bottom of it... but what? I’m open to theories.” Kyle nodded.

“Maybe he’the just changed.” Scott spoke up.

“Right, he’s just changed.” Kyle rolled his eyes, “Come on, Scott, who’s the kid at this school who makes fun of your diabetes all of the time?” Kyle asked.

“Now Kyle, let’s be reasonable here.” Stan replied, “We all make fun of Scott Malkinson’s diabetes.”

“He’s right.” Kenny added.

“Okay, okay, not the point.” Kyle insisted, “Come on Scott, this is Eric Cartman we’re talking about. He’s never given a crap about any of us, he just likes ripping on us and whatever that gets him closer to some cash or a world without Jews. You think one day he’s just going to wake up changed?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Scott replied.

“Look, even if Cartman is up to something, what are we supposed to do?” Davin spoke up, “If we ruin this party, everyone else in the school is going to blame us. Maybe we should just stay away from the party and mind our own business.”

“Mind our own business?” Kyle shook his head, “You know, Davin, a long time ago, there was a guy who decided to just mind his own business, you know, not get involved, someone who thought if he just tried to stay out of the whole mess, everything would be okay. We all know what happened to him, don’t we, Davin?” Kyle continued. Davin sat, stunned, “Don't pretend you don't remember. I'm talking about Sans the skeleton, Davin.”

“Sans the skeleton?” Davin’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, Sans was the one in the hoodie that everyone thought was just a lame joke, but then when things were their darkest, he showed up and proved he was actually totally badass... but he spent a lot of time waiting around and being lazy.” Stan explained, “I wish we had a friend like that.”

“Hey, fuck you.” Kenny replied.

“Dude, that was kind of uncalled for.” Stan raised a confused eyebrow.

“Look, look, we can all talk about how great Undertale is later, really, but what matters right now is stopping Cartman’s evil plan.” Kyle insisted.

“Kyle, how can you say that?” Heidi got up from her seat, “Eric isn’t evil. He’s just a little misunderstood is all.” she explained.

“Heidi, didn’t he kill your father, remember?” Kyle protested.

“Look, I’m just saying, he’s a jerk, but maybe he’s not, you know, evil. Maybe you’re rushing too quickly to pass judgement, that’s all.” Heidi explained, her voice raising.

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “He tried to have my entire people exterminated because he saw it in a Mel Gibson movie.”

Stan spoke up again, “To be fair, Kyle, Cartman wanted to exterminate the Jews before he saw the Passion.”

“Oh, you’re taking Cartman’s side now?” Kyle scowled.

“I’m just saying-”

“Whatever this is, I want no part in it, okay?” Heidi insisted, walking away from the table, pointing to the door, “Screw you guys, I am going home.”

Wendy sighed, finally speaking up, “Cartman offered to go out with you, didn’t he?”

“I said I’m going home.” Heidi called out, slamming the library door behind her, a distant librarian sushing her.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be involved in this either.” Davin looked up from his phone, “Besides, I have somewhere to be tonight.” he left his seat.

Scott exited his seat as well, “Hey guys, I’d love to help and all, but it’s time for one of my insulin shots so I really gotta go, but uh, text me, okay?” he sped out.

“Okay, so, no matter what happens, nobody text Scott, okay?” Kyle sighed, “He’s just... a total chore to work with, let’s be honest.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy.” Kenny piped up.

“Well then, I guess, it’s just us four. Well, that’s okay.” Kyle shook his head, “I had a feeling it’d come down to this. So, here’s the plan. Stan, Wendy, your job is to distract Cartman as much as possible.” he told them, “Keep him from going upstairs, okay?”

“Oh, that should be pretty easy.” Stan nodded. “Right, Wend?”

“Of course, Stan.” Wendy nodded, a little surprised he cared to ask, “We’ll handle that, I guess, but what are you doing?”

“Oh, well, whatever plan he has up his sleeve, he’s probably made some big complicated blueprint and hidden it in his bedroom, or written about it in his diary, and wherever it is, me and Kenny are going to find it and figure it all out.” he nodded, “We’ll sneak upstairs to avoid suspicion if we didn’t show up.”

“Oh, okay, so we’ll need to distract you for you guys to get upstairs?” Wendy asked.

“Right, yeah. The code word will be ’banana’. If I say that, it means, distract him, whatever it takes.” Kyle advised, “I have a really bad feeling. Whatever he’s planning has got to be big...”

xXx

Butters Stotch stood in a nice little tuxedo, wearing a big grin, “Gee, it sure was n-nice of you to pay for this tuxedo, Eric. It’s real sp-spiffy.”

Cartman leaned on a cane, grinning, “It’s no problem.” he looked at the green carpeting of his home, then up at the banners and streamers, “Butters, I hope you know I really appreciate all of this help. I couldn’t pull this off without you, dude.”

“Gee, it’s no problem, Eric.” Butters smiled, “You know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens.”

“I know, Butters...” Cartman sighed, “You’ve stuck with me through a lot, and don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I mean, I tried to have you killed, and yet, who was there for me when I needed it most?” he shook his head, twirling the cane in his head, “I’m going to make it up to you, bro, just you wait.”

Butters chuckled, “Aw, Eric, stop-”

“No, no, no, Butters, you deserve it. You’ve been a real trooper.” Cartman nodded, “I’m still working out details but before today ends, I’m going to make everything up to you. Promise.” he looked at his wrist, “Oh, hang on, Butters, can you set up the crafts table. I have to go check on something.”

“Sure thing, Eric!” Butters saluted him, before Cartman heard a noise and ran to the kitchen.

“Mom, what the hell are you doing?” he crossed his arms, watching as the lovely woman, hair in a bun, wearing a light blue sweater, waited by the microwave.

“Oh, I was just making some corn dogs for you and your little friends, sweetie.” Liane Cartman offered with her sweetest smile.

Cartman shook his head, “Stay right there.” he left the kitchen and returned with her jacket and purple purse, “Come on, mom, no more working around the house. You do too much for me as it is. Here’s a coupon book. Go wild. Buy some crafts supplies or get yourself some dinner or something.” he insisted, trying to push the woman out from the kitchen.

Liane’s eyes widened, “Sweetie, let me finish the corn dogs, at least?”

“Mom, please, I have everything under control, I promise. You do so much for me, I want you to go enjoy yourself.” he told her, “I have people coming over to help with food. Don’t worry. I promise everything’s going to be fine.”

“Oh, well... all right.” Liane sighed, taking the jacket and slipping it on over her outfit, “Are you sure you’ll be all right? I know things have been... a little difficult lately, with-”

“Shh, just get going.” Cartman handed her the purse, watching as the woman gave him a confused smile. He shrugged it off, “Come on, go have fun. Buy yourself a little something. Oh, and don’t forget to stop by City Hall and vote.” he nodded, “Butters, door.”

“Sure, Eric.” Butters walked over from a table, approaching the front door and opening it for her, “Have fun, Ms. Cartman!”

“All right, sweetie... have fun yourself.” Liane explained as she walked out the door, looking back at him, surprised by his behavior, “I-I love you.” she explained.

“I love you, too, mom.” Cartman chuckled as Butters shut the door behind him, “All right, good, that’s over with. Have Tweek and Clyde arrived for the catering?”

“They just texted, Eric, they’re almost here. Tweek had to stop and pick up a delivery of locally-sourced coffee grounds, and Clyde had to buy some supplies for his mom’s old lemon bar recipe. They have to pick up a few more things before they get here. The fridge is already stocked with all the soda we had on budget for the early arrivals. Ice cream cake’s in the freezer.”

“All right. We’ll put the corn dogs out for them, too.” Cartman rubbed his chin, “How about the entertainment? Did you book anybody?”

“W-well, we already talked about Jimmy, a-and since Stan’s Dad couldn’t make it, we’re havin’ Thad Jarvis, the third grader, handle m-music, he can play the guitar.” Butters explained, “We’re putting him up with Timmy, who’ll double as keyboard and DJ, and we found a great singer. She’s been in a choir and-”

“All right, so it’s all taken care of is the point?” Cartman asked.

“Oh, right, I guess so.” Butters nodded, “Jeez Eric, you’re really sparin’ no expense on this, huh?”

“Of course I am, Butters.” Cartman sighed, putting his hands behind his back as he approached the window, “Look, I know you might not believe this when I say it, but Butters, I actually realize now that I’ve done a lot of terrible things over the years.” he explained, “I’ve done horrible, reprehensible things... I went from, you know, plagiarizing essays to handcuffing second graders to the school flagpole, blaming Token for everything, hell...” A deadly silence seemed to fill the room, “We all know my father would be alive today if it wasn’t for me.” Butters’ eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak,

“Eric-” 

Cartman ignored him and continued him, “I’ve treated my friends like garbage, and taken people like you for granted. It’s time for me to do what it takes to account for my mistakes, Butters. I... don’t know if you’ll understand this, but the truth is, I-”

Knock. Knock.

“Oh, there’s Tweek and Clyde with the snacks. Butters, would you mind getting the door?” Cartman asked.

“Sure thing, Eric.” Butters grinned, approaching the Cartman Residence’ front door again and opening it, “Hey fellas!”

Clyde Donovan, a chubby boy with lightly swept brown hair fond of dark reds and bright blues, and Tweek Tweak, a jittery boy with messy blonde hair and a misbuttoned gray shirt, stood there. “Butters? Where’s Cartman?”

“I’m here, Clyde.” Cartman stepped towards the door, “Is there a problem?”

“Nothing huge, just that Tweek’s parents wanted to help set stuff up before they ran to the polls. They brought all the stuff you guys ordered, and we have the lemon bars.” Clyde explained.

“Oh, well, I guess it shouldn’t be a problem if they just buzz in and out.” Cartman stepped aside, “Please, come in.”

“Ngh, thanks dude!” Tweek twitched, passing by quickly.

“Please enjoy some complimentary Taco Bell on the counter for your troubles.” Cartman advised them, as Clyde suddenly shot through the door in a brown blur, “Nice.” he looked to the car as Richard Tweek and his wife appeared, with full bags blocking out their faces. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tweek.”

“Hello Eric. Where should we start setting up?” came Richard’s voice.

“Oh, uh, just bring everything into the kitchen.” Cartman replied, crossing his arms, “And drop off a few appetizers on the dining room table, I guess. We just don’t want anyone eating all the mini-sandwiches before its time, you know?”

“Oh, we understand.” Richard nodded, “We want as many of your guests to enjoy our catering as possible, while it’s still fresh, because we just care a little more. Naturally fresh. Fresh like the foot pads of a puppy... fresh like the nectar that a bee uses to make natural honey... or fresh like a mother’s milk for her crying newborn- hon, what was that for?” he mumbled, rubbing the spot where his wife had lightly punched him.

“R-right, yeah, the uh, dining room table.” Cartman rubbed his neck, as the two adults moved past him. “All right everyone, the party begins in about an hour, pizza will be here in two. Remember, I’m paying you to make things perfect by the end of this hour, okay? I am sparing no expense this time.”

“Mm Hello Eric.” came a voice from the door, and he looked up to see Ned Gerblanski, the old Vietnam veteran who couldn’t speak on his own, without Jimbo, “You said you needed a pony ride?”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Cartman shrugged, not used to seeing Ned alone, “How about you go set it up in back, and I’ll see it when I’m back? I have to run one quick little errand, but I’ll be back in time to set up the Xbox and take a look at the yard set up, okay? Butters is in charge.”

“Mmm, uh sure, fine with me.” Ned shrugged, turning around to look for the ponies he had brought, “Oh jeez.”

Cartman rolled his eyes and hobbled down with his cane to take a walk across town.

xXx

At Hell’s Pass Hospital, the Marsh family sat around a hospital bed, Sharon holding her unconscious husband’s hand, with her daughter asleep in a chair nearby. “Please wake up, Randy, please...” she cried quietly.

“Mrs. Marsh?” Nurse Goodly walked into the room, carrying the clipboard in her mouth before dropping it down on a desk, not bringing her prosthetics today, “How are you today?”

“Oh, hello, Rita. Where’s Dr. Gauche?” Sharon asked, looking both ways around,

“He’s out at the polling booth. After what happened last time, I voted early.” she replied, “As you can tell, didn’t work out so well for me.” she shook her head, “We have a lot of anxious people upset about the possible results. Any news with Randy?”

“He hasn’t moved as long as I’ve been here.” Sharon sighed, “I’m worried he might never wake up.”

“Well Sharon, there’s a good possibility that might be the case, in which case I suggest you alert you emergency backup husband as soon as possible.” Nurse Goodly replied.

Sharon sighed, looking at the floor, “How are things with Ned? Jimbo holding up okay?”

The Nurse chuckled softly, writing with the pen in her mouth, “Me and Ned dyare still doing fine, thanks, but... Jimbo’s asleep in the waiting room, taking it harder than he wants to admit. You know how he felt about Randy. He was a proud big brother, even if he liked to act like he and Randy were just drinking buddies.” she rolled her eyes, “Anyway, I better move. Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe a glass of water, but no rush. You can send in Jillian if it’s easier.” Sharon said, squeezing Randy’s hand, “I just wish I knew what was going on in his head...”

xXx

Randy Marsh held on to his head as he woke up, rubbing his forehead, “Oh man, ow, that fucking hurt.” he stood up and dusted himself off, looking around at the town. It was dark and foggy, but otherwise everything seemed the same. He raised the beer bottle in his arm to examine the S‘moors label, then carelessly tossed it aside. “Jeez, I’m gonna need a fresh one. That one was getting kind of old and stanky.” he looked around, sitting up on the sidewalk, getting up and dusting himself off, “Boy is it empty out here.”

He saw a figure going into a house, and quickly realized he wasn’t alone at least. He walked down the street, nonetheless still stricken by how empty it seemed out there. “Spooky.” he observed, spotting his own house. Well, at least he could relax and work out his hang over for a bit, approaching the front door.

“Aw, crap.” Randy put his hands in his pockets, but couldn’t locate his keys. He shook his head and rang the doorbell, “Sharon. Sharon. I lost my keys again, Sharon, come on. Open up.” the door suddenly began to open on its own, “The hell?” he gently stepped into the house, to see the television on, a short child sitting in the darkness.

“Hey Stan, come on kiddo, what have I told you about locking the door?” No response. Randy grimaced, “Hey, I’m talking to you.” he stepped in front of the televisin, “Stanley, why didn’t you...” his eyes widened, “Oh my God.”

Stan stared back at him, but under his red poofball hat were Randy’s thick black eyebrows, for once lifeless brown eyes, trademark mustache, and familiar chin, “Welcome home, Randy.” came the voice of a child wearing a brown jacket with red trim, “How was work?”

“Stan, what the hell happened to you? You’ve never been this handsome before!” Randy gripped his chest.

“Everything’s fine, Randy. I was just watching our favorite show.” he replied.

“Lasagna’s ready, guys!” came Sharon’s lovely voice, and Randy ran into the kitchen door to observe his wife’s familiar behind as she bent over to pull some food out of the oven, recognizing her usual brown sweater and pants.

“Sharon, what’s wrong with Stan? He looks different.”

“Oh, Randy,” his wife giggled, shutting the oven door and turning around, holding a big pan of lasagna as she smiled back at him, with his identical face and mustache, “I’ve been watching the Food Network, made sure to add a little creime fraiche. Joining your family for dinner?”

“Sh-Sharon...?” Randy asked horrified, covering his mouth.

A whirring sound came from behind him as a figure in a wheelchair reached the table, holding a cane, again looking almost exactly like Randy, just with a little gray in his temples, “There you are, Randy. Join us for dinner.”

“Tell us how work was.” the Randy in the kitchen asked, putting down the lasagna pan. The Randy in the poofball hat took his seat, “Sit down and join us for dinner.”

“Yeah, Randy, why don’t you join us?” came a voice from the stairs, as Shelly stood there, with Randy’s face in place of her’s.

“S-suddenly, I’m not hungry.” Randy said, “I-I need some air, I’ll be back later.” he backed away, then ran out the door, tossing his beer in a garbage can as he passed and looked for a street corner, “Oh God, where the fuck am I?”

“Hello there, friend.” came Randy’s own voice, and he turned to see himself in a chef’s apron and hat, holding a spatula, “How’s it goin’?”

“Wh-who are you?” Randy asked, quivering in fear.

“Oh, me? They call me Chef Randy around here, ’cause I wear this little apron and also, ’cause I like to cook stuff. I mean, I usually add a little creme fraiche, you know for flavor, like on the Food Network. Hey, you ever watch Randy Flay?” he grinned.

“L-look, I’m not supposed to be here, okay? It’s me, the original Randy. Randy Classic.” he asked, “What’s going on here?”

“Oh. They always said you’d come here one day.” Chef Randy’s grin didn’t fade for a second, “I guess I’m the lucky Randy who gets to show you around, huh? Don’t worry, this is going to be fun.” he said excitedly.

“Wh-what’s going to be fun?” Randy Classic asked.

“Just try to relax, okay? Come to the school cafeteria, I’ll make you a little somethin’, we’ll crack open some cold ones with the boys, and I’ll introduce you to the second smartest Randy there is. He’ll know what to do.” Chef Randy grinned.

“What happened to my friends and family? Why am I here?” Randy Classic asked.

“All will become clear, as soon as we talk to New Cap.” explained Chef Randy, “Keep your guard up around here, Ran. Lotta folks been waiting to meetcha.”

“Hey you!” came the voice of another Randy, and they turned to face a shirtless Randy with his dukes up, “Think you can trespass on my territory? I didn’t hear no bell.”

“What the hell?” Randy Classic asked, backing up a bit.

“Hey now, don’t back up, that’ll just upset him.” Chef Randy reminded him.

“So I should run?”

“No, that’ll upset him, too.”

“All right, looks like you’re gonna have to get into your first fight. I was hoping we could wait until later, but this isn’t The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe here. It’s a lot more hardcore.” Chef Randy explained, “That’s Baseball Fights Randy, and he’s challenging you.”

“What? Oh, right, that. That was years ago, dude.” Randy Classic crossed his arms.

“It was last summer.” Chef Randy shook his head, patting his shoulder, “Buckle up, buckaroo.”

“Hey, you think you can just trespass? Who do you think you are?” the third Randy replied, tying a red cape around his neck, “Show me what you got?”

Randy Classic raised his eyebrows and his fists, “Jesus Christ, come on, why are you gonna hurt me? We’re all the same.”

“You tellin’ me I’m just like Pocahontas Randy? Oh, it’s on now, bitch.” the caped Randy put his fists back up.

“If PC Randy were here, he’d tell you that’s a gendered slur.” Chef Randy pointed out.

“You’re next!” the caped Randy declared to the chef Randy.

“PC Randy? Who’s that?” Randy Classic asked, as caped Randy delivered a punch to his cheek.

“Oh, uh, not there yet.” Chef Randy rubbed his neck, “Anyhow, come on, fight for your right to be yourself!” he insisted.

“I-I don’t know how.” Randy Classic replied, dodging a hook before being punched in the jaw, with his own punch dodged in turn, “He knows my every move!”

“Then you just gotta be unpredictable! Show him you’re the real Randy!” Chef Randy insisted, as the caped Randy and Randy Classic continued to fight, with Chef Randy clapping along, “Come on. You can do this, Randy, you’re the best!” He was right either way, to be fair.

A tooth fell out of Classic Randy’s mouth as the caped Randy punched him again, “I’m the best?” he stopped to look at Chef Randy, “Hey, he’s right.” he turned and managed a punch towards the caped Randy, “Sing it, Chef Randy.”

“Ohh, you’re the best, arrouuund, nothing’s gonna ever keep you down, you’re the best, arrround, nothing’s gonna ever keep you down...” as he sang each line, Randy Classic managed to knock a punch on himself, but the caped Randy hadn’t given up.

“This guy’s good. He’s seen a lot of baseball fights...” Randy Classic admitted, “I don’t know if I can do it, coach.”

“Coach Randy isn’t here, dammit, I’m Chef Randy. He must’ve given you a concussion.” Chef Randy shook his head, “Do something he can’t predict, something you learned after baseball fights.”

“All right, okay... I think I’ve- ooh!” a punch in the gut from the caped Randy nearly knocked Randy Classic off his feet, “Try this on for size...” Randy Classic squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his behind towards the other Randy, “One, two, three...”

BOOM!

The caped Randy landed in the middle of the street, “Oh God...” he coughed up blood, “Woah, that was... where did you learn that?”

“You’re a good fighter, Baseball Randy. You must’ve eaten a lot of eggs to get this tough. Hopefully not raw... but there’s some things you can’t learn in the stands. I learned that trick from the New Kid in town.” Randy Classic crossed his arms, “It’s called a Nagasaki.”

“You... you must teach me...”

“Nah, I actually have somewhere to be so, uh, you know, just like, back off and stuff?” Randy Classic shook his head, catching up to Chef Randy up the street, “That was pretty pointless. So, is he out of commission for a while?”

“Yeah, it was pointless, but now you know what danger you’re in. Like I said, a lot of people are gonna be after you. Every Randy here thinks they should be the one true Randy, but we all know only one Randy is truly greater than all others.”

“Well, yeah, duh, me, Randy Classic, the original.”

Chef Randy, “We’ll see what New Cap has to say about that.”

Randy Classic looked back at the ailing version of him in the streets, still recovering from the Nagasaki, “Jesus Christ, where the fuck am I?” 

xXx

Cartman hummed softly to himself as he passed by the Park County Police Station, spotting the recently-promoted Chief-of-Police Barbrady, outside as he supervised two officers shoveling snow. “All right boys, just a few more hours and we’ll all be able to get back to detective work, once this election is over.” he noticed Cartman, “Oh, hello there, Eric.” he waved, still friendly to his former deputy.

“Hello, Officer Barbrady, how are you today?” Cartman replied with a grin, “I hope everything is going well.”

“Oh, sure.” Barbrady tipped his hat, “It’s a little quiet, what with all of the adults at the polls and all. It sure would be a great day for a bunch of unruly kids to have a wild, un-supervised party or something.” he shrugged.

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t have to worry too much about that.” Cartman explained, “There’s not that many older kids in this town right now and all.”

“That’s a good point.” Barbrady replied, “Besides, it’s like they tell us back at the Police Academy. Right, Foley?”

Foley shoveled some snow away, “If nobody reports a noise complaint, it’s not our business, sir.” he replied quickly, not looking up.

“That’s right.” Barbrady grinned. “I’d better get back to looking for my shovel, but it was nice talking to you.”

“Nice talking to you, too, Officer Barbrady.” Cartman waved and moved on, leaving the police department behind.

“I have a feeling that kid has a bright future ahead of him.” Barbrady sighed, picking up his walkie-talkie, “Hey, uh, Harris, have you found my shovel?”

Down the street, Cartman arrived at the regal South Park Church building, the younger priest with the gray shawls directing the choir in a loosely-organized practice for their verses the following Sunday. Cartman hummed and waved, passing them as he entered the large doors into the structure itself, with Sister Anne and Priest Maxi speaking by the front, “Oh, hello there, Eric.” Father Maxi greeted, waving quietly, surprised to see the boy so bright and early, “I was just telling Sister Ann about your recent commitment here. We’re all very inspired at how your faith has come to guide you after so long.”

“Well, I can’t blame you for that.” Cartman chuckled, “I’m just lucky that our Lord is so forgiving, and that Christ is willing to help me work past my many sins.” he grinned, “I was actually going to work on some of those right now. Did those gift baskets I ordered arrive?”

“Oh, of course.” Father Maxi replied, “Excuse me a moment,” he told Sister Ann, before approaching his office, “I held on to them all in here for you. You must’ve paid handsomely for so many flowers.”

“Well, it’s all I can do to work through my sins.” Cartman nodded, “The one with the chocolates is for you, Father. I hope you’ll accept it.”

“...what? Me!?” Father Maxi was dumbfounded, “It’s... actual chocolate, right?” he asked.

“Of course, Father Maxi.” Cartman responded, “I know I did some pretty mean stuff in the past, like... I know I never told you this before, but this one time like three years ago, I took the ham out of your sandwich and put it between my-” Cartman paused, “You know what, none of the old stuff is important, the point is, I’ve changed, Father Maxi, and I want to make it up to you, and I promise, nothing in this basket has been in my butt.” he nodded, “See? The shrink wrap and the little ribbon’s still there in everything. How much trouble d’you think I’d go through? Plus, you’d know it was me.”

“True.” Father Maxi replied, crossing his arms, “All right, son...” he remembered that from the confessional, putting a hand on his forehead, “The Lord preaches forgiveness, and so I forgive you, all right? Why don’t you take the other gift baskets and run along, okay?” he nodded.

“Of course, Father Maxi, thank you.” Cartman nodded, grabbing both, one filled only with flower bouqets, and quickly filing out of the Priest’s office. Maxi looked both ways and sighed, tossing the gift basket by the trash,

“Like hell I’m falling for that old trick.” he rolled his eyes.

Cartman headed out through the same doors and approached the entrance to the cemetery on the left, closing the gate behind him as he looked at the graves around them. He looked around, with much of the cemetery empty, save a group of kids nearby a small tree, sitting around and smoking cigarettes... oh right, those were the Goth Kids. Cartman almost hadn’t recognized them.

“I can’t believe they closed all the conformist coffee shops today. What are we supposed to do, go drink that raw sewage at Tweek Bros. Coffee?” Pete sighed, flipping his red hair, “I mean, come on, we’re freakin’ Goths, not hipsters.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be okay.” the taller Goth, Michael shrugged, “We shouldn’t have to deal with any conformists here. Everyone’ll be depressed and lonely like us.”

“I like the cemetery.” Firkle shrugged, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Of course you’d like it, Razor.” Pete flipped his hair out of his face, “Anyway, I think it was Wednesday’s turn to read something?”

“You know, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and you guys should know, it’s a little pricey but they have a dark roast at Tweek Bros. Coffee that’d probably be right up your alley.” Cartman pointed out, “If you want, I can even lend you some money, if you’d like to try it.” he offered with a smile.

“...what the fuck?” Pete said with surprise.

“Wait, aren’t you Eric Cartman?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Of course it’s Eric Cartman.” Pete rolled his eyes, “The fuck happened to you? You used to be... well, not hardcore or anything, but not a typical happy-go-lucky conformist, anyway.”

“Do we have a term for that?” Michael asked.

“I don’t think so” Henrietta replied, “I’d say he’s unique, but that’s just how my mom describes my twerp brother.” he shrugged.

“It’s a long story, but I’ve really changed. I’m not about profit and power anymore. The world is getting to know a new, better Eric Cartman.” he grinned.

“Dude, seriously, the fuck happened to you?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, did you like, take a hit of acid or something?” Michael suggested.

“Were you offered membership into a cult that promised happiness and joy, only to discover that you would only continue counting the fewer remaining days until you reach the eternal salvation in the sweet embrace of death?” Firkle asked.

Cartman shrugged, “Hey, look, I’m sorry, guys, I’m not here to cheer you up or anything dumb like that. I respect that you guys have a different but valid perspective on life that, while dark and depressing, is still based on real experiences, and I don’t feel bothered by it.” he nodded, “But if you guys do get bored, you’re welcome to come to my house for a party tonight, okay? You don’t have to show up though.” he quickly left.

“Does anyone else feel really... weird right now?” Michael asked.

“Eric freakin’ Cartman is a conformist now, I just can’t believe it.” Pete shook his head.

“Don’t be so hung up on it, guys, he was always a greedy capitalist anyway, obsessed with money just like those bankers and stuff.” Henrietta shrugged, taking a drag from her pipe, “Let’s ignore him and get back to our poetry.”

“Yeah, good idea, Henrietta.” Michael corrected himself. “Who’s turn was it? Pete?”

Pete flipped his hair out of his face, “Dude, Pagan, Goth names.”

“Oh right, sorry, Sparrow.” Michael repeated.

“It was my turn.” Henrietta said, rolling her eyes, before beginning to recite.

Cartman passed by some of the graves, pausing for a moment near the left side, where a stone cross marked the spot for Mayor McDaniels’ first husband, and nearby, the smaller marker Cartman had been looking for, representing the same woman’s longtime aide, Ted Smith. He dropped a bouquet in silence, then began moving towards the back, spotting the markers for some of the school’s former teachers, marking them off in his head as he did so: Diane Choksondik, check, Veronica Crabtree, check, Erin Stephenson, check. 

He said nothing before he turned to approach the very back set of graves, those reserved for children who had died in the town. He looked both ways, dropping a larger bouquet by the three graves in the center, marked in the middle by PHILLIP CHARLES PIRRUP, letting out a little sigh, locating the two nearby stones. At least he was with his family, right?

Cartman shrugged, and went to leave the back row when a grave caught his eye, “Oh, hey. Wow, we were really mean to you, heh...anyway, things worked out, right? I mean, you must be with your parents now, and that chick you had a crush on. You wouldn’t stop crying, remember?” he asked, a little awkwardly, “I have other people to see, but I guess we couldn’t totally ignore you this time.” he moved on to the people on his list, leaving John Vanson’s grave behind.

He passed by another nicer grave that he could’ve sworn said Kenny McCormick as he began moving back towards the front of the cemetery. It was surprisingly easy for him to approach the graves of the Tenormans, with lit candles still burning - they seemed fresh, too. Interesting. He shook his head and kneeled. Mr. and Mrs. Tenorman? Careless. He dropped a bouquet for each of them, and opened his mouth, but words failed him. He couldn’t do this today. He wasn’t strong enough. Cartman instead moved towards the center, where the largest grave was located.

There was a moment of silence as Cartman looked down at the grave, “Hey Chef.” Another moment of silence passed. 

“Bad.” Cartman replied, to nobody in particular.

After one further moment of silence, Cartman continued “W-well... it’s just... this one time, there was this guy I really looked up to, and... I never had the courage to tell him how much he meant to me, you know? He was always there for me, and I... I never knew how to tell him he was probably the only person I ever felt like I could really trust. He was kind of like my...”

The wind gently blew through the breeze as Cartman stood there, unable to speak, staring at the carving in the stone - Jerome 'Chef’ McElroy. “I guess I still can’t do it.” he shrugged, dropping the largest bouquet there, putting a hand in his pocket and leaving, picking up his cane. “Well, I have a party to get to, I guess.”

“Oh, ’zere you are.” came a voice from behind Cartman. He spun around and faced a boy leaning against one of the larger graves, with messy dark hair, an expression that looked almost stoic, a shovel hanging behind his back, rope, and his arms crossed. “Oh, uh, hello.”

“You muzt be... Beeg-Boned?” the boy raised an eyebrow, “You zeem familiar... ’ave we met before?”

“I have a feeling we have, Mr. Mole... but look, I don’t have a lot of time...” Cartman’s expression hardened, “Look, do you have what I need or not?”

The Mole looked both ways, “Of course.” he stepped forward and handed Cartman something small.

“Thank you, Mole.” Cartman shoved it in his pocket, “This will do nicely...” he smirked, before snapping back to his (new) usual self, “Oh, hey are you free later?”

The Mole raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Oh, I’m just having a party at my house tonight, and I’m inviting everybody. You don’t seem to socialize much, so I thought maybe you’d get to meet some new people.”

The Mole pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, “I’ll... con-zeeder it.” he said, lighting it up, “I ’ave to keep moving. Don’t tell anybody ’zat came from me, okay?” he jumped into an open grave, dirt popping out as he returned to his day job.

“No problem. See you around.” Cartman began heading back towards the exit. Well, good thing that kid didn’t remember what he’d done to him yet. Now that he had what he needed, and was done with all that sappy stuff, he just had one more stop to make, and then he could focus on the party...

xXx

Dr. Mephesto moved aside as he allowed the mysterious traveler to enter his laboratory, “I apologize for the state of things here. It’s been a while since I’ve had visitors.” he explained, his assistant Kevin following at his side, “Can I offer you a drink?”

“It’s all right, and uh, not today.” the traveler replied, following him through the halls, “Let’s cut to the chase. You probably don’t recognize me. I’m from another timeline, one very different from this one, where the town of South Park chose a different path.”

“I’m not surprised. I’ve been detecting anomalies in space-time for months. Changes within this timeline.” Mephesto explained, “It’s been difficult to understand it all. I cannot prevent my own memory from being altered every time something changes, not to mention there’s always additional errands.” he noted, “For example, a few months ago, a little girl from town brought me a DNA sample to determine the ancestry of the Cartman family. I believe-”

“Not a cliffhanger worth resolving.” the figure replied, pointing his own cane at Mephesto, “I was sent back here to repair the timeline, so things may proceed as intended.”

“Very well. What do we need to do?” Mephesto asked, leaning on his cane.

“We need to pinpoint the source of the anomaly first, the moment everything changed, caused the fork in space-time.” the figure replied, “I was hoping you would know how to do that part, and then I could handle the rest.”

Mephesto rubbed his chin, “Very well then. How exactly can we pinpoint this moment?”

“Well, when’s the last time you remember not sensing an anomaly?” the figure asked, “Don’t you have some tool to measure that stuff?”

“Oh, well, that was around the time that...” Mephesto tapped his chin, “I believe the town was being sued by angry celebrities and targeted by violent extremists, but my memory can be a bit hazy.” he approached a console, pushing some buttons, causing a holographic display to show up, showing what looked kind of like a tree that forked, with branches growing out from each side, “Right before all that happened, there was nothing, and then... little Pip Pirrup came here for a DNA test, and there were just a few specks in the timeline... but then the divergences gradually increased.” he explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a space-time anomaly is more complex than a single divergence. Those happen all the time, and there are probably infinite alternate universes. I’m a biologist and a geneticist, of course that’s all really physics... regardless, the anomaly grew as space-time became more and more fragile, until everything spiraled out of control.” he shook his head.

“Right, right, that’s where I step in.” the figure explained, “So, the point is, we need to locate the source of the anomaly so I can kill it.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” Mephesto explained, “Kevin?” His little assistant brought him a clipboard, “You see, if we go back and time and kill an element of the timeline that lasted in your timeline, we’ll just create another fork.”

“Dude, fuck.” the figure replied, “Well, there goes my plan. What do you recommend we do to resolve the timeline?”

“Well, I believe the only thing we can do is-”

Suddenly, there was a burst of flame in front of the two men, and the flames disappeared as Damien Thorn stood there, dressed in all black, his skin slightly reddened, stubble on his chin, and tiny orange horns beginning to peek out from his dark, messy locks, “I was already on my way here!” he said quickly, “You were about to summon me?”

“Well, no, but this is awfully convenient. You must be that child who claimed he was the son of Satan.” Mephesto observed.

“Claimed? Pft.” Damien shook his head, “Insolent mortals. I am a half-demon, and I can make all of your nightmares come true at the drop of a hat!” raising his arms and making fresh firecrackers pop in the air.

“All right, okay. Jeez, you remind me of my son.” Mephesto shook his head, “Anyway, mysterious time traveler, this child was here when the timelines diverged, and as a supernatural being, he has knowledge beyond us. So we’d better start asking some questions.”

“Holy shit. Uh, what brings you here?” the figure asked.

“Well, Eric Cartman is having a party down in town, and I was going to poof there, but since you assholes were interfering in something beyond your control, I showed up here first.” Damien declared boldly, “Now, what’s the problem with the timeline? I have a schedule, and if Pip searches my room again, I’m going to kill him. Again.” The figure and Mephesto exchanged glances.

xXx

“All right guys, remember what we talked about.” Kyle asked, looking to Stan, Wendy, and Kenny as they stood on the stoop of the Cartman residence, all three boys exchanging nods of acknowledgment as Kyle stepped forward and gave the door a strong knock. It wasn’t long before it opened and Butters, in his tuxedo, grinned,

“Hey fellas! Glad you could make it. You’re a little early. Can I, uh, take your coats?” Butters asked a little awkwardly. 

“No, that’s cool Butters, but thanks.” Stan replied awkwardly, surprised to see Butters acting as a tuxedo, looking to Kyle, who gave him a knowing nod. Obviously Cartman hadn’t changed too much if he still needed a butler...

“So, who else is here?” Kyle asked, noticing some activity.

“W-well, Tweek and Clyde are handlin’ snacks in the kitchen, and Timmy’s setting up everything for the entertainment, and Ned is out back putting the pony rides together, and Mr. and Mrs. Tweek are just finishing up... golly, I don’t even remember why they’re here. Like I said, you fellas are early.” Butters checked his watch, “Eric’s not even back from his errand yet.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “An errand, huh?”

“Is he out getting condoms?” Kenny asked, receiving a glare from Wendy, to which he just winked, causing her to roll her eyes. Stan was none the wiser.

“Oh, he didn’t give me all the details.” Butters shrugged. “He should be back any minute though, don’t worry.”

“Timmih!” Timmy greeted, leaving the stage and DJ area to come greet the new arrivals, “Livin’ a lah, Timmah!” he said excitedly, pointing towards the small but respectable stage, happy to show off his musical talents and eager to show his friends what he’d learned on tour.

“Timmy’s going to be running all the entertainment, we got a lotta music, and Jimmy’s gonna do some stand-up, it’ll be a real hoot.” Butters grinned, “There’s pony rides in back but we’re kinda keepin’ this an indoor thing otherwise.”

“I wanna ride the pony.” Wendy said quietly, looking at Stan, voice soft and surprisingly stoic, “Please let me ride the pony.”

“Sure, dude. I can’t believe he really pulled off the pony rides.” Stan replied, “I thought it’d be a joke, you know, one of those things you say to illustrate how big a party is, but most people don’t think it’ll actually be there.”

“Nope, real pony rides.” Butters grinned.

Cartman walked in from the kitchen, having come in through the back door, holding the package under his arm, “Oh, Stan, Kehl, Kinny, Windy, I’m glad to see you guys were able to make it. Let me just run upstairs and we can actually get this party started. How’s the band, Butters?”

“Timmy’s here and gettin’ set up, but the others are on their way.” Butters grinned, “Oh sorry, did you fellers want some refreshments?”

“No.” Kyle stepped aside, “Hang on. What’s in that box, Cartman?”

“Honestly Kyle, I would actually love to tell you, but it’s kind of supposed to be a surprise.” he explained, “Please try to keep your voice down.”

“Hey, fuck that, I want a fucking drink.” Kenny insisted.

“Stan? Wendy?” Butters asked.

“Oh, uh, we’ll share a coke. Two straws.” Stan answered quickly, and Butters sped off. Wendy raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help but smirk a little,

“Two straws. How romantic.” Wendy told Stan. She didn’t really find the act itself as romantic, actually, as much as that she appreciated the fact Stan seemed to be trying, all on his own.

“Come on Cartman, what are you hiding in there?” Kyle crossed his arms.

“I know you’re not going to believe me, Kyle, but I promise, it’s part of a big surprise, and I’m really hoping you can be cool about this.” Cartman told him.

“What is it, huh? Some kind of weapon? Is it a gun? Or maybe a black mamba? A book of evil spells?” Kyle challenged.

Cartman was quiet a moment, “I’m not going to answer that. Please just try to enjoy some appetizers, Kyle. I worked really hard on all of this-”

“Dude, dude, calm down.” Stan grabbed Kyle’s arm, giving him a knowing look, mouthing ‘stick to the plan’, “Let’s go get us some appetizers.”

“Right, okay, sure.” he shook his head and followed Stan and Wendy over, glaring back at Cartman.

Cartman shook his head, approaching Butters, “I need to run upstairs. Tell me immediately when Heidi gets her so I can apologize and-” he looked up to see Kenny standing there, arm full of cupcakes, “Oh, you’re still here.”

“I grabbed my appetizers while Kyle was screaming at you.” Kenny chuckled, “This party looks fucking killer, dude.”

“Thanks Kinny.” Cartman nodded, “I’m glad you guys came. I didn’t think Stan and Kyle would trust me, but I thought you might. You know I wouldn’t go to all of these lengths for some get-rich-quick scheme, right?”

“No, I think you probably would, but as long as I’m getting fucking free food, I’ll roll with whatever.” Kenny nodded.

“I can live with that.” Cartman shrugged, before turning to see Mr. and Mrs. Tweek exiting the kitchen - finally, he was afraid he’d have to force them out. The other kids would hate to deal with unwelcome adults. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tweek, are you guys finished up?” Kenny bit another muffin as he looked over the older woman’s curves.

“Of course we are. We just wanted to thank you for choosing Tweek Bros. Coffee for all of your coffee and catering needs today, and let you know we’re putting you on our mailing list, where we can sell your information to local-” Richard Tweek explained.

“Right, right, I appreciate the help, you appreciate my business. Is there anything important?” Cartman asked.

“We were actually just leaving,” Mrs. Tweek took charge and intervened, crossing her arms over her chest, causing Kenny to let out a disappointed sigh “Right, Richard?”

“Of course, hon. We’re going to go stop by the polls, and then go home and do the business taxes early.” Richard grinned excitedly as his wife rubbed her forehead.

“Weren’t we supposed to do something else today? While the shop was closed and our son wasn’t home?” she asked, hands moving to her hips. Kenny cheered, unnoticed.

“I don’t remember us discussing anything else?” Richard said with confusion, and Mrs. Tweek rolled her eyes, crossing her arms again.

“Thank you for your business, Eric, and do keep an eye on our son.” she replied, before heading for the door. Richard raised an eyebrow, and looked to Cartman and Kenny with a shrug, then followed his wife out.

“Did you fucking see that, dude?” Kenny asked, clasping his hands together with glee.

Cartman rolled his eyes, “Cut it out, Kenny, isn’t your girlfriend coming soon?” Kenny’s eyes widened,

“You invited Tammy? Shoot,” Kenny nommed on a muffin, “I gotta go get myself ready.” he quickly disappeared, while Butters stepped forward,

“Does he know-”

“Oh shit, I thought you told him?” Cartman asked.

“N-no, Eric, I thought you were gonna.” Butters said with surprise.

Cartman pinched the bridge of his nose, “I think it’s too late now. We’ll just have to pretend we didn’t know, okay?” he shook his head, “Heidi on her way?”

“She’s down the block.” Butters reported.

“Good. Mark my words, Butters, tonight is a night nobody in South Park is ever going to forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The party is finally starting, and the rest of the story will almost all take place at Cartman's House during the party, or at Hell's Pass Hospital where Randy's staying. There'll be virtually no adults here on... although I'd love to work in just one more cameo, I wouldn't want to force it.
> 
> Still excited to hear some theories about the mysterious figure's identity (which will be revealed next chapter) as well as whether or not Cartman is actually up to no good or not - or what the hell is going on in Randy's mind. :)
> 
> Special Thanks as usual to the SPU Writing Team - Mutt, Kitty, Rachel, Shane, and Wensleydale Cheddar, and a further special thanks to unstotchable and skrtomg for the idea for the Randy plotline. I hope they both like where I plan to take it.
> 
> Continuity and Trivia:   
> \- Davin Miller may be a bit obscure, but he's the Ginger Kid in season 17‘s “Ginger Cow” that Cartman owed an apology to for saying cows couldn't be Ginger.  
> \- In season 1‘s “Damien”, and occasionally referenced later, Cartman demanded Megaman gifts for admission to his birthday party.  
> \- According to season 14‘s “Mysterion Rises”, Clyde’s mother Betsy had a wicked recipe for lemon bars at the time.  
> \- As Thad Jarvis is seen at South Park Elementary for a quick cameo in season 16‘s “Butterballs”, I assume the kids vaguely know him, so I made him a third grader like Bridon.  
> \- Timmy's experience as a musician is well-known from “Timmy 2000”.  
> \- Cartman mentions plagiarizing an essay, a reference to “Weight Gain 4000”, and handcuffing a second grader to the flagpole, part of his larger off-screen scheme in season 10‘s “Tsst!”, and ‘blame Token’ has been a running gag that appeared in that same episode among others. We know the fate of his father, as addressed in season 5‘s “Scott Tenorman Must Die” and season 14‘s “201”.  
> \- The special delivery at Kenny's House is a nod to South Park: The Stick of Truth, even if this stubborn ass prefers to believe it's not meth.  
> \- Nurse Goodly played a key role in season 2‘s “Cartman’s Mom is Still a Dirty Slut” but remained a background character for a few years further. Her first name and relationship with Ned are a reference to fellow writer Ama's fic Abnormally Average.  
> \- Sharon cooked lasagna in season 11‘s “More Crap”.  
> \- The different variations on Randy are all from various episodes, as you can probably tell... season 14‘s “Creme Fraiche” has Chef Randy, for example, and season 9‘s “The Losing Edge” is the source for baseball Randy.  
> \- If you've played South Park: The Stick of Truth, you know how powerful the Nagasaki spell can be. Randy actually taught it in one of the trailers.  
> \- Officer Barbrady was promoted to Chief-of-Police in my previous fanfic... right around the same time he was fired in the show... :(  
> \- Foley is the main rookiee/trainee cop on the show, with key appearances from season 7 thru 11, such as arresting Randy in season 9‘s “Bloody Mary”.  
> \- Sister Anne and the secondary Priest appeared respectively in season 4‘s “Do the Handicapped Go to Hell?” and season 14‘s “Sexual Healing”.  
> \- Cartman had previously confessed a variety of sins related to Priest Maxi in season 4‘s “Do the Handicapped Go to Hell?” as well.  
> \- The Goth Kids have appeared in a few different restaurants to drink black coffee, such as Benny's (season 7’s ”Raisins“) and the Village Inn (season 12’s ”The Ungroundable“ on). Why not Tweek Bros. Coffee? I re-used the ‘raw sewage' bit from season 2‘s “Gnomes”.  
> \- Speaking of which, the Goths use the old Goth names I made up for them before their real names were revealed. :)  
> \- I've mostly avoided call-forwards to the two recent seasons due to SPU's nature, but the Mayor's deceased husband is a reference to season 19‘s “Tweek x Craig”.  
> \- John Vanson is an old original character of mine that I killed off seven or so years ago. A lot of fans of my work really miss him, and I felt it necessary to pay him a little tribute.  
> \- The references to Pip and Damien throughout the story are largely in reference to “My Name is Pip”, one of the first fanfics of my second main writing period.  
> \- Mephesto’s reference to the Cartmans’ ancestry was from my previous fic, The Girl Who Loved Cartman.  
> \- The black mamba is a reference to another old fic of mine, I Love You Forever, also once known as Cartman’s Party.
> 
> Pop Culture References:  
> \- More Undertale references because my friends are obsessed with it. :)  
> \- I’m sure you know what The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go. This is the big one, folks. 
> 
> Well, this is actually just a short teaser for a larger story. For those nervous, I promise that it will be focused pretty squarely on the kids, with the adults making up a couple side stories, as you can tell.
> 
> Continuity and Trivia:  
> \- Stan's attitude is a bit of an indirect nod to “Ass Burgers”.  
> \- The Mayoral election was alluded to in a few previous fics, but it's finally here. I promise not to make it too much of a focus. It's mostly to cover where the parents are.  
> \- The figure meeting with Mephesto is someone we know from South Park. Internet cookie if you can figure out who it is!
> 
> Pop Culture References:  
> \- The phrase “spared no expense” is a recurring line and running gag in the 1993 film Jurassic Park.  
> \- “I am the legendary fartmaster.” is the password given by Sans the skeleton in the video game Undertale if you go back in time.


End file.
